A Touch of Love

by Sheryl Lister

  The man checked a list, found her name and nodded. He rose, escorted her over to the elevators and stuck a key into the penthouse slot. “Enjoy your visit.” He stepped out and doors closed.

  Lexia was even more curious. The doors opened and she walked down the plush carpeted hallway. There were only three condos on the floor. Several beach landscapes lined the walls. She went the wrong way and had to double back. His was at the other end of the hall. Taking a deep breath, she sent him a text. Moments later, the door opened. She gave him a tiny wave.

  “Hey.” He stepped back and gestured her in.

  Magnificent. That was the only word that came to mind as she entered. The wood floors gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in from two walls of windows in the living room. The wide-open space flowed into a kitchen twice the size of hers with granite counters, stainless steel appliances, maple cabinets and access to a large terrace that held four loungers and a couple of small bistro tables. She walked over to one of the windows. He had a stunning view of the marina and ocean. She faced him and spoke slowly. “I like this.”

  “Thanks.” Khalil walked over to an end table next to a black leather sofa, retrieved the same phone she’d used at the hospital and handed it to her. “Do you want to see the rest of the place?”

  “I’d love to. And I can just download the chat app on my phone, so it’ll be easier.” She took a moment to do that and synced it to his phone. Now she really wanted to see his place and was glad he had offered. She followed him down the hall past a bathroom with a shower and a carpeted bedroom decorated in shades of tans and browns. Next they climbed the winding staircase to the second floor to his huge master bedroom with another fabulous view of the water. A king-size bed covered with a black-and-gray comforter sat on one side of the room, while a fireplace surrounded by two oversize recliners and a wooden coffee table took up the other side. A flat-screen television was mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

  Lexia walked farther into the room and saw an expansive walk-in closet that looked custom-built. Everything was neatly in its place and she wondered if he had someone who came in to clean. Next she headed for the en suite bathroom. He had a whirlpool tub and separate shower with smoke-gray glass. Both were large enough to fit two people easily. “This is a fabulous place. How long have you lived here?”

  “Six years. I needed a permanent place to live after I stopped modeling and I wanted to be close to the beach. I lucked up on this place when it foreclosed on the previous owners.”

  She surveyed the room again. Even if he had purchased it at a foreclosed price, it still wasn’t cheap. Obviously, he’d done well with his modeling career. Lexia recalled the photos she had seen. Yeah, he’d done real well.

  “I was going to heat up some homemade chicken noodle soup my sister left. Would you like to join me?”

  “Sure.” She followed him back downstairs. She sensed his uncertainty and wanted to tell him it was okay. Unlike their first times together, he didn’t flirt, and gone was the playful glint in his eyes. She sat at the table in the eat-in area and watched as he moved around the kitchen.

  “What do you want to drink? I have water, green tea and cranberry juice.”

  “I’ll take the tea, please.”

  Khalil leaned over the bar to read the screen then nodded. He filled two glasses with tea, brought them to the table and went back for the bowls of soup and the phone.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes. She touched his hand softly to get his attention. He still wore the brace for his sprained wrist. “This is really good. Which sister cooked it? Siobhan?”

  “Yes, and I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  “How are you doing with everything?”

  His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.

  “You don’t have to answer. I understand.”

  He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “You understand? Do you understand how it feels to have everyone look at you with pity and think you can’t do the things you used to do? Do you know how it feels to have your ears ringing so loud you think your head is going to explode? Do you understand how it feels to not be able to hear your own voice, the radio or the waves crashing against the shore? Do you?”

  Lexia bit her lip and tried to keep the tears from falling. She knew he was lashing out because he was frustrated, but it hurt all the same. She swiftly came to her feet. “I think I should go.” Rushing from the table, she made her way to the living room, where she’d left her purse.

  “Lexia, don’t go.” Khalil gently took hold of her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Please don’t leave. I’m sorry.” He leaned back and tilted her chin to meet his tormented gaze. “I didn’t mean to... Please don’t cry.” He framed her face with his hands and wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.”

  He lowered his head and covered her mouth in a tender kiss that she felt clear to her toes. She wrapped her arms around his middle, pressed closer to his hard body and let herself be swept away in the sweet sensations.

  “Stay with me.”

  She hesitated briefly, then nodded.

  Khalil took her hand and led her back to the table, where they finished their meal.

  Lexia didn’t offer any conversation. She was still trying to process the emotional surge from his kiss. Yes, she was attracted to him, but she didn’t need any upheaval in her life right now. She lifted her head and found him staring at her intently. He covered her hand with his briefly, then picked up his spoon.

  Afterward, they went back upstairs to his bedroom, where he got a blanket from a chest. “Come sit with me for a while.” He gingerly lowered himself to the cushioned lounger on his balcony, positioned her between his legs and covered her with the blanket. “Are you warm enough?”

  Lexia nodded. He wrapped his arms around her and she snuggled deeper into his embrace, being careful not to put her weight on his injured ribs. Together, they sat and watched the sunset over the ocean. She could get used to being with him this way. So not good.

  Chapter 8

  Khalil sat quietly holding Lexia. He couldn’t believe he had yelled at her, something totally out of character for him. His only excuse—this not being able to hear a thing was making him crazy. He glanced down at her peaceful expression and wished he could experience the same. However, something told him he wouldn’t be at peace until he woke up from this nightmare or learned to accept it. At this moment, the nightmare had the upper hand.

  Lexia shifted.

  He moved the mass of curls. “Are you cold?”

  She rotated so he could see her face fully. “No.”

  They continued to watch the sunset. He remembered her carrying a bag in when she arrived and had planned to ask about it before he lost his mind. “What was in that bag you brought?”

  She stared up at him, then pulled out her phone to type. She held it up. “Just something I thought you could use, but I’ll save it for another time.”

  His brows knit in confusion. “Why would you want to wait if it’s already here?”

  She hesitated, then typed again. “After what happened earlier, I think it might be better to wait. I’d rather not have my head chopped off twice in one hour.” She flashed him a meaningful look.

  Khalil closed his eyes briefly. “If I promise not to chop your head off, will you show me?” He peered over her shoulder to see the screen. “Only if I can get it in writing.” For the first time in a week, he laughed. Then groaned.

  Lexia sat up and shook her head. She gently ran her hand down his chest. “Are you okay?”

  Just like the first time she touched him, warmth flowed through his blood. “Yeah, baby. I’m okay and I’ll put whatever you want in writing.” Though she didn’t weigh much, with his sprained wrist and broken ribs, there would be no way he’d be able to carry her like he wanted. He p
laced a kiss on her temple. “Let’s go see what you’ve got.” He waited until she stood before carefully shifting and following suit.

  Once downstairs, she retrieved the large green gift bag from the love seat and handed it to him. She gave him a look that said, “You promised.”

  He opened it, pulled out a hardback book and read the title: The Joy of Signing. He bit back a curse and it took everything in him not to toss the book in the fireplace and light it. He’d made a promise.

  She folded her arms, waiting. A smile played around the corners of her mouth. She held up her phone.

  “Having a little trouble with that promise? I don’t mean to upset you, but how do you propose to communicate effectively over time if, for some reason, it takes much longer for your hearing to return? Technology is great, but what if it fails?”

  Khalil lowered himself to the love seat and tossed the book and bag on the coffee table. She’d mirrored what the doctor had said. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she’d been hiding in the examination room. Why had this happened to him? And why now? He had too much on his plate to have to deal with this.

  Lexia sat next to him.

  “I can’t begin to imagine how hard this is for you, how angry you must be, but I will help you in any way I can. If you don’t want to start learning sign language right now, it’s fine. But you’d better not toss my book in the fireplace.”

  His head came up. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

  “I saw your expression.”

  Khalil reached for the book. “This is yours?”

  She nodded.

  “Why would you need it?”

  She signed as she talked. “To talk to my friend.”

  He quickly read what she said and his eyebrows shot up. “You know sign language?”

  She nodded and signed.

  “That’s the sign for yes?” She nodded again and he sat stunned. This woman was full of surprises. She owned her own business, knew sign language. What was next? Still, he just wasn’t ready to jump in, confident that he’d be hearing again in a couple of weeks. But he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he told her, “I’ll think about it.”

  Lexia smiled.

  “Well, I should get going. You need to rest and I have some things to get done tonight. Hopefully, since it’s almost eight, it won’t take long for me to get home.”

  He should have sent her home earlier so she wouldn’t have to drive at night. “I’m sorry for keeping you out so late.” Normally, he would insist on following her home, but the thought of driving made him uncomfortable. Afraid would be a more accurate description if he were being honest with himself.

  Lexia waved him off. “I’m fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve been out at night by myself.”

  Maybe not. But it was a first on his watch and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “Anytime you want to talk...”

  “Thanks.”

  She slung her purse on her shoulder and headed for the front door. She turned back and waved.

  Instead of waving back, he lowered his head and kissed her. Khalil had only meant for it to be a short goodbye kiss, but the moment their lips touched, fire swept through him and he could no more stop kissing her than he could stop breathing. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, tasting and teasing her tongue with his. The pressure of her against him caused a slight discomfort, but he ignored it for the time being.

  At length, she tore her mouth away, her breathing as ragged as his. “I...I need to go.” She pointed to the door.

  His ribs might be broken, his wrist sprained and his hearing damaged, but one part of his body worked just fine. It wouldn’t take much for him to drag her upstairs to his bedroom. He agreed. She needed to leave.

  She opened the door and jumped back.

  Khalil leaned around the door to see what happened and met his mother’s smiling face. He cursed under his breath. “Hey, Mom,” he said grimly. Khalil had always been careful to keep his liaisons or any women, for that matter, out of his mother’s sight. She was on a mission to see all of her children married and with him being next in line agewise, she’d turned her full attention to him. And now there would be no stopping her.

  * * *

  Lexia’s gaze flew to Khalil’s. Her heart still raced and her body trembled with desire. She had to get away from this man now.

  “Mom, this is Lexia Daniels. Lexia, my mother, DeAnna Gray.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Gray.” She was tall, trim and, even wearing slacks, a faux wrap blouse and low-heeled pumps, she had the regal bearing of a queen.

  “Same here, dear.”

  Khalil hugged his mother. “Come on in, Mom. Lexia was just leaving and I’m going to walk her down.”

  His mother swept in and latched onto Lexia’s arm. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to leave on my account. In fact, why don’t you stay?” She held up a bag. “I brought Khalil some dinner and there’s plenty.”

  The fragrant smell of fried chicken wafted to her nose. Lexia smiled and shook her head. “Thank you so much for the offer, but I don’t want to intrude. I just stopped by for a few minutes.”

  “Nonsense.” She closed the door and gestured them to the kitchen.

  Khalil sighed.

  Lexia glanced over her shoulder at him as she followed his mother and he gave her an apologetic look.

  After depositing the bag on the counter, his mother went back and scanned the living room.

  “What are you looking for, Mom?” She pantomimed a phone. Khalil stepped around her and picked them up from the love seat, where he and Lexia had left them. He handed it to his mother and she immediately grilled him with rapid-fire questions: Why hadn’t he told her about Lexia? How long had they been dating...?

  Lexia’s eyes widened. “Mrs. Gray, Khalil and I are not dating. I happened to be there the day he got hurt and just wanted to see how he was doing.”

  His mother’s smile widened. “Oh, you’re the one Brandon told me about.” She threw her arms around Lexia and engulfed her in a smothering hug. “Thank you so much for being there with him. I’ve been wanting to meet you.” She brought her hands together. “This is so wonderful!”

  Lexia groaned inwardly. She hazarded a glance Khalil’s way. The look on his face was a mixture of irritation and resignation. Despite Lexia’s continued protests, Mrs. Gray went about setting plates, silverware and the food on the table.

  Khalil came and stood close to her. “Sorry about this,” he whispered.

  “It’s okay,” she mouthed.

  Mrs. Gray waved them over and made sure she brought the cell phones with her.

  Khalil seated them both, and then took the chair opposite Lexia.

  “Khalil, can you bless the food, please?”

  He read the screen, bowed his head and recited a short blessing.

  Everyone filled their plates with fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans and for the first few minutes the only sounds were that of forks scraping against plates. The fried chicken almost made Lexia moan it was so good. She really wanted to ask about the seasoning, but figured it would only give his mother more ammunition for her matchmaking, so she refrained.

  “Lexia, Brandon says you own the café at the office,” Mrs. Gray said.

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s hard work, but I really enjoy it.”

  “Isn’t that something? You and Khalil both own a business.”

  “Mine is pretty small compared to Khalil’s and your family’s home safety company. How did you all get into that business?” Lexia asked, steering the conversation away from her.

  Mrs. Gray launched into an explanation of her husband’s frustration with getting equipment and accommodations for the disabled, his designing the equipment in their garage and subse
quently starting the company. “And after more than two decades, he finally turned the reins over to Brandon almost a year ago.”

  “That’s a great story.” They had accomplished a lot in those years. “It seems as though creativity runs in your family. Khalil mentioned designing equipment for his fitness center.” Though he didn’t comment, she noticed him following the conversation on his screen.

  “He’s the most creative of my five children. Has he shown you his paintings?”

  Paintings? “No.” To him she asked, “What kinds of things do you paint?”

  Khalil’s eyes met hers. “People, cars and, every now and then, landscapes.”

  She remembered seeing a painting of a sunset when they were upstairs. “Did you paint the sunset that’s on the wall in your bedroom?” As soon as the words were off her tongue, she wanted to snatch them back. His mother divided a speculative look between Lexia and Khalil, and Lexia wanted to slide under the table.

  He must have seen Lexia’s expression because he quickly offered an explanation. “I gave Lexia a tour when she got here,” he said to his mother. And, yes. I painted it a few years ago.”

  “It’s beautiful. You’re very talented.”

  Still smiling at them, his mother said, “I agree.”

  Lexia hurriedly finished her food. “Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Gray. I really should be going now. I have to be at the café before five in the morning.”

  “Oh my. That’s early.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, it is.” She stood and picked up her plate.

  Khalil lifted his hand. “Leave it. I’ll take care of it.” He rose to his feet, came around to her side and offered his hand.

  She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it and allowing him to help her up. She wanted to tell him that his chivalry wasn’t helping to dispel the notion that they were dating. Lexia turned toward his mother. “It was very nice meeting you. Thank you, again.”

  “You’re welcome. We’re having a family dinner on Sunday. Khalil, you should bring Lexia, so your father can meet her.”